


A Breathing Man’s Funeral

by Undercover_fangirl19



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undercover_fangirl19/pseuds/Undercover_fangirl19
Summary: This is a “fuck you” to every man that has ever made the decision to lay a hand on a child, woman or another man. This is a one-shot based on pure unity.This story is for every beautiful strong survivor to ever tell their story. The purpose of this story is to let others know that they are not alone.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Breathing Man’s Funeral

A year ago today, I murdered a man. In my wake of destruction I left a grieving family, a fatherless son, an abused widow, and dozens of witnesses.

A year ago today I chose to speak up for what I thought was right, and as a consequence I ended a man’s life. 

In an attempt to save the life of a beautiful child, I chose to end the life of another. 

I have trouble understanding how most typical murderers are conscious-less. How they can go to sleep at night without feeling terribly guilty for causing others to grieve. 

I found it hard to look at my hands and see the blood stains of a father, husband, and uncle among many other things. 

When telling my story, I found out I was not the sole killer in this vicious act as shown by the numerous handprints lining the wall. Handprints of the pure and completely innocent. Handprints of the pimple-faced and handprints of the spaghetti-stained. Handprints of all colors and shapes.

A few months later I took a moment to reevaluate what I saw. I realized that the owners of the handprints, and the handprints that were my own, were not the marks of killers. They were the marks of the survivors, being forced to tell the story of the death of their innocence. 

For anyone that has ever chosen, or been forced, to tell their story. You are not alone. Our handprints line the wall to show that we are strong. Attempted murder turned to their own suicide because we were brave enough to speak up. We did not kill them, they killed themselves. They widowed their wife, they left their children. They wrote the book, they hid it in their sock drawer thinking it would never be read. We opened the book and read it to the world.

So we stand here today, over the casket of a breathing man, we stand as one. We are a united force and we are here to say a great big “fuck you”. 

With our middle fingers pointed high to the sky we let out a fearless “Fuck you” 

“Fuck you” because you chose to murder my innocence. 

“Fuck you” because you chose to lay your thick, slimy, disgusting man hands on my perfect porcelain skin. 

“Fuck you” because you thought I was weak enough to stay silent.

“Fuck you” because you made me think that I was the one who ended your life when in reality, all I did was write the obituary.

“Fuck you” because I am living, I am breathing. I am strong and you were weak. I am here today being everything you never thought I could be so Fuck you. 

I hope your casket feels especially lonely today when you realize what you did.

**Author's Note:**

> *Please note. For legal purposes, there was no real death. It is all a metaphor in reference to sexual or physical assault*


End file.
